Breathe Read online

  It seemed strange, yet hot, that he dressed well, had a nice SUV, never had stubble, obviously took care of his body but yet his thick, dark blond hair hinted at unruly. It was swept back from his face in a natural way that didn’t suggest usage of product. I’d seen, on occasion, when there was wind and I’d noticed him outside, that locks of his hair would fall on his forehead. Or when I’d happened to see him running and he was sweating, I’d seen his hair plastered there. But usually, it looked nice, neat, taken care of.

  But there were bits of it that curled around his ears and his strong neck. Unruly bits that curled in as well as out. A hint of wild. A hint of unkempt. Just that barest hint he needed a haircut but in a way, if I was asked, I’d get down on my knees and beg him not to do it. In a way that those unruly curls made me want to reach out, take hold of one and tug.

  My belly melted again.

  Chace’s head turned to me

  “Got bad news.”

  I blinked at his words that took me out of my very pleasant thoughts.

  “What bad news?” I asked.

  “Made plans last weekend with a buddy of mine. Goin’ to Deck’s tonight to catch the game. Which means I can’t take you out to dinner.”

  I didn’t know we were going out to dinner. Even so, this news was fairly devastating since now I did know but we weren’t going so that was a huge bummer.

  “Deck?” I queried.

  “The cameras?” Chace for some reason queried back.

  “Uh…” I mumbled, uncertain of my response to that and his lips tipped up.

  “He’s my buddy who had the cameras. He’s a private detective, amongst other things. Lives in Chantelle. He helped me install ‘em Friday night.”

  I felt my brows go up. “Amongst other things?”

  “Actually, he isn’t a private detective. He just tells people he is. What he really is is a little scary. I ignore what he does because I’m a cop and if I didn’t I’d probably have to arrest him. We’re tight, have been since high school. He moved back this way about two years ago. Before that, by his account, he lived about everywhere. Since I think he’s not exaggerating but downplaying it, I figure he’s lived about everywhere and except for getting an audience with the Pope, done about everything.”

  This Deck sounded interesting.

  I didn’t share that. I just muttered, “Oh.”

  “I’d cancel but Deck can be a dick when you cancel. He also doesn’t invite the boys over unless he intends to go all out. His own homemade beer that’s really fuckin’ good. Mexican layer dip and brownies that he makes that are even better. No joke. The man is six foot four, two hundred twenty pounds of muscled bulk and he makes dip and brownies. It’s a spread. And it’s a hassle puttin’ up with his attitude, you don’t show. So, I’m gonna show. But I’ll call you before you go to bed. I’ll make a reservation at The Rooster. We’ll go there tomorrow night. Can you be ready by six thirty?”

  No, I couldn’t be ready to go to The Rooster at six thirty.

  The library closed at six. Shutting everything down didn’t take forever but I wasn’t out until at least a quarter after. That meant I was home just moments before six thirty.

  The Rooster was my favorite restaurant ever. It was a fancy steak joint in the mountains about a half an hour away. The views were amazing. The steaks melted in your mouth. The prices were astronomical but you’d sell your kidney without blinking just to trail your finger in their tri-peppercorn sauce and lick it clean.

  I’d eaten there five times, all special occasions, and I’d never had anything that I didn’t consider the best I ever had. This was saying something since Denver had some amazing eateries and I partook copiously while living there when I was at Denver University and going back for my Master’s.

  It was also one of the only places close by where you could dress up. Even in Denver, jeans were acceptable practically everywhere and considered formal attire in some circles depending on your top and footwear. But in Denver, women, and men, found their occasions to run the gamut of gorgeous apparel.

  In the mountains, this was few and far between and in our area, The Rooster was one of the only places you could get by with going for the gusto.

  On my first going out on a date well… date with Chace, I wanted to go for the gusto.

  But I couldn’t go for the gusto if he was showing up on my doorstep about a nanosecond after I got home from work.

  So no way I could be ready by six thirty.

  I still said, “Yes.”

  Chace didn’t reply. He just studied me.

  Then he demonstrated yet again he could read my mind.

  “How about this, can you be ready at seven thirty?”

  That was way better.

  “Yes,” I whispered on a small smile.

  He grinned before he looked away, lifted his coffee cup but said to the lid before he took a sip, “Lookin’ forward to the show you got planned, baby.”

  Panic instantly oozed from my every pore.

  I liked my clothes. They were nice. Good quality. I thought they suited me. I had a few good getups for when I went back to Denver to meet friends or my family had special occasions that called for a little effort. And when I made an effort, I didn’t mind making a statement. Though, only a minor one.

  But I had not one thing to wear on a date at The Rooster walking in on the arm of all the beauty that was Chace Keaton.

  My mind quickly flipped through my options and this time, it settled on Lexie.

  Krystal wore tank tops even in the winter. She might put a cardigan over them if she was heading outside, but even when it was super cold, that was all the effort she put into covering up and keeping warm.

  Lauren always looked good. She used to be some executive but it was clear since she hit Carnal she’d embraced the biker babe lifestyle. This included her wardrobe if, compared to the vast number of other biker babes who lived in the vicinity, she injected a healthy dose of class.

  But Lexie used to be a buyer at a department store. She wore high heels all the time, even high-heeled boots in the winter. Her husband was not a biker, he was a mechanic. A mechanic who owned a Dodge Viper and lived in one of the swank condos in the hills on the south end of town. Not to mention they were currently moving into an enormous house in an even more swank development in the eastern hills. I didn’t see him often but when I saw him with Lexie, he didn’t look like he could be in a beer ad. He looked like he could grace the cover of GQ. So Lexie didn’t embrace biker babe chic or mountain girl cute comfort. She always, but always, looked phenomenal.

  So I hoped she was free to go with me to the mall that night on an emergency mission.

  “Incoming,” Chace muttered as I made mental plans with Lexie and took a sip of my latte.

  My eyes snapped up and I saw the boy stealthily rounding the building. I noted immediately even from our distance that the eye wasn’t swollen anymore, the bruises were fading but not gone and the cut on his lip was still noticeably angry. He’d received a thrashing. Over a week and the evidence was still there.

  The only thing that made me feel better about this was he was wearing the coat I gave him, the hat and the new jeans. But it was nippy. He really should put on the gloves and scarf.

  I watched as he took his time and, as he did, he looked through the lot and surprisingly straight at the spot I’d been parked in yesterday, like he expected to see us there.

  Like he’d seen us there yesterday.

  Strange. Very strange. So strange it sent my body sliding toward Chace’s. My shoulder bumped his and, without taking his eyes off the boy, his arm shoved behind me and rounded my waist.

  My hand went out and my fingers curled around his thigh.

  We watched in silence as he approached the bags, crouched by them but he didn’t take time to dig through. He just grabbed them and motored to the back of the library, around and he was gone.

  “Made us,” Chace muttered and I turned my head to look at him.

&nb
sp; “What?”

  He dipped his chin and twisted his neck to look at me, it hit me then how close he was but I didn’t move back.

  Not a centimeter.

  “Made us even before he grabbed the shit yesterday,” he answered. “My guess, just now, he scouted the area, didn’t see us on the street so he made his approach from the direction he came from. This means he led me off-track yesterday. He approached from the front, left around the front, headed toward town. Approached from the back this time, thinking we aren’t here. Wherever he goes, he approaches the library from the back.”

  “Um… aren’t you going after him now?”

  He gave my hip a squeeze, I read the command, pushed back into my seat and Chace looked out the window, his profile contemplative while answering.

  “No. Want him to feel safe. Don’t want him to think it’s a trap. He needed that shit yesterday. He knows he can outrun us or lose us. He saw us before he even returned the books. Maybe he knew he could get away, didn’t want to waste the effort of walkin’ here from wherever to return the books. Maybe he thinks we’re no threat. No fuckin’ idea. But now, I think we should keep a distance, keep givin’ and hope he takes you up on your invitation and gives back. Writes a note. Gets comfortable. Gets to know you. Maybe he’ll approach us.”

  This sounded like a good plan.

  Or at least it did until Chace hissed, “Fuck,” with a lot more emotion than he’d been talking with a mere moment before.

  “Chace?” I whispered but his eyes didn’t leave the library.

  “Saw it yesterday, saw it clearer today,” he replied.

  “What?”

  His eyes turned to me and I caught my breath at the anger I read in them. I was stunned that his seemingly mellow mood had shifted in an instant.

  “His face, Faye. That’s a week of healin’.” He shook his head and his gaze moved back to the library on another, “Fuck.”

  I reached out a hand and curled it on his knee, leaning into him, whispering, “Chace.”

  He shook his head again once but spoke. “Not eatin’ right, no medicine, no water to clean, probably doesn’t even know to do it. That’ll all delay healing but that doesn’t mean that kid didn’t get nailed. He got fuckin’ nailed. Nine years old, slinkin’ around for food, dumpster diving, I’m across the goddamned street and all I can do for his sake is sit on my ass, watch and wait.”

  Entire verses of “Holding Out for a Hero” crashed in my brain.

  As they did, I squeezed his knee and called softly, “Honey.”

  Instantly, his head turned to me but I was so focused on his anger for the boy, I didn’t see the expression on his face.

  “He’s got food. I’ll put medicine out tomorrow and tell him how to use it. Shampoo, soap, a washcloth, a towel, suggest he finds someplace to clean up. Urge him to eat the fruit and veggies. Maybe buy some vitamins and ask him to take those too. We’ll take care of him and then we’ll get him.”

  “I know we’ll get him, darlin’, and that’ll be good. But who I really wanna get is whoever fucked him up.”

  I pressed my lips together because he said that like he meant it a whole lot.

  Then I unpressed my lips and replied quietly, “I want you to get him too.”

  His eyes moved over my face before coming back to mine and he whispered back, “Then I will.”

  I smiled at him.

  He leaned in and touched his mouth to mine.

  Unfortunately, he leaned right back and said softly, “Gotta get to work.”

  “Right,” I replied.

  “Call you before you go to bed.”

  I smiled again and repeated, “Right.”

  His eyes dropped to my mouth before they came back to mine, he leaned in several inches and whispered, “I’d take that mouth, but that’d mean I’d be makin’ out with you in your car on the street. The town’s pretty librarian doesn’t need that kinda talk.”

  This was disappointing.

  Until he finished, “Least not yet.”

  I smiled again.

  Chace awarded me a return smile.

  Then he took off and I drove my Cherokee into the lot, parked and went to the library.

  * * * * *

  Nine fifty-five that night

  I was on my back on my couch, feet in the seat, knees to the ceiling, apple candle burning, snapping a piece of bubblemint in my mouth, the last glass of the wine Chace brought the night before mostly consumed and sitting on a table beside me.

  I had my Nook in my hand and I was reading.

  Lexie was luckily free. Her friend Wendy was not on shift at Bubba’s so she came with us to the outlet mall. They were both not only free, but also beside themselves with glee that we were going to the mall because I was going out with Chace. Lexie especially. She was delighted and didn’t mind showing it.

  This felt good.

  It also felt hopeful.

  I liked my clothes but contradictorily, I wasn’t a shopper. Luckily, I knew what I liked and I knew where to get it so my shopping experience was as narrow as my life had been (that was to say, as narrow as it was a couple of weeks ago).

  Lexie and Wendy took me to the outlet mall and opened up an entire world to me.

  This was why I came back not only with an outfit that even I thought was fan-freaking-tastic to go out with Chace in but also four other bags of clothes, shoes and (it made me blush but that didn’t mean I didn’t hope it wouldn’t eventually come in handy), sexy undies and nightgowns.

  They were having the time of their lives and I did too. I didn’t know shopping could be such a blast. But with those two, it totally was.

  Now I was home, unwinding, trying to read at the same time wondering if Chace liked dogs and/or cats. Since Holly didn’t mind pets, I’d been thinking now for months about getting one or the other. This was what was on my mind when my phone rang.

  It was the house phone again so I twisted, grabbed the handset from the charger by the couch, beeped it on and put it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey baby.”

  My bent knees fell to the back of the couch, I felt my eyelids go half-mast and I licked my lips.

  Yes, all this from a greeting.

  “Hey Chace,” I whispered. “Having fun?”

  “It’s a game, honey, not a parade.”

  My head cocked to the side at his words and tone and I asked, “That isn’t fun?”

  “Not when my team is losing.”

  “Oh,” I muttered then enquired, “Who’s your team?”

  He hesitated and I heard sounds in the background of a TV clearly on a sporting event before he replied, “The Nuggets, Faye.”

  Right, of course.

  “Basketball,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, honey. Football’s done in January.”

  I was still mumbling when I replied, “I heard something about that somewhere.”

  His team losing grouchiness faded and I knew this when I heard his chuckle.

  “You could be watching the Avalanche,” I pointed out.

  “Avs are on the road. West coast. Deck’s tapin’ it. That’s next.”

  “Oh,” I whispered then, “Long night of male camaraderie.”

  “Deck doesn’t break out the beer, dip and brownies unless there’s serious shit to watch.”

  I was with Deck. All that effort should be for something.

  “Deck sounds interesting,” I noted.

  “Yeah, he is and every breathing female thinks the same thing.”

  A small, short giggle escaped me and I asked, “Pardon?”

  “The amount he gets means he’s either a good-lookin’ guy or he’s got the ability to hypnotize women that’s undetectable but highly successful though the purposes he uses it for are nefarious.”

  “Ah,” I replied through a smile, “breaking that down, he’s hot.”

  “I can’t make that call but I’m a detective so evidence suggests this is true.”

  I laughed softly
and I knew Chace listened to it because he didn’t speak again until I was done.

  “You gettin’ ready for bed?”

  I blinked and looked at the funky clock mounted on my brick wall that I found in a cute shop in Glenwood Springs as I asked, “Bed?”

  “Bed,” Chace replied.

  “It’s ten o’clock,” I told him.

  “When do you go to bed?”

  “I don’t know, midnight?”

  There was silence.

  “Uh, when do you go to bed?” I asked.

  “If I’m not drinkin’ beer and eatin’ homemade brownies, ten.”

  “Early to bed, early to rise,” I whispered.

  “Late to bed, lazy in the morning,” he whispered back.

  “I’m not lazy.” I kept whispering.

  “Baby, give me that. The thought of you, lazy in bed in the morning is a good one.”

  That got a full body shiver and a quick mental inventory of my junk drawer to see if I had fresh batteries for my vibrator.

  “I’m not sure this is fair.” Yes, still whispering. “You being at Deck’s with beer and brownies, me being here and you being sweet and um… other things.”

  “Other things?” His voice was teasing.

  “Yeah, other things,” My voice was soft.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered then kept muttering the weird words. “Cute. Hot.”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’, darlin’. It sucks but I’m gonna let you go. Boys’re givin’ me looks which means they’re listenin’. That means they’re gonna give me shit so I should probably not hand them more to give me shit about.”

  I didn’t know if saying it was right or wrong because of how much it exposed about how much I didn’t want to let him go.

  I also didn’t care.

  This was why I suggested, “You could move to another room.”

  “Yeah, your sweet voice for any longer, the other room I’m gonna move to is your one room apartment. That right there from the grins I’m gettin’ bought me a load of shit so I’m gonna let you go.”

  “Okay,” I said quietly.

  “When you get to sleep in three, four hours, sleep good.”

  Teasing again.

  God, I loved that.

  So much, I laughed softly then I replied, “When you finish male bonding and get home, you sleep good too, Chace.”